


Doubt

by shadowsong26



Series: Jedi of Valdemar [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: AU - Fusion, Gen, M/M, aaaaaanyway, ft. sunpriest kallus having Feelings in the haven temple, relationship is mostly in the background but it is definitely there, so i figured better to tag it, today on shadowsong writes niche crossovers......
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsong26/pseuds/shadowsong26
Summary: Some weeks ago, Kallus made the decision to flee across the Border, and defect to Valdemar, and he knows it was the right decision to make. But that doesn't mean that there are no questions left in his mind and heart...





	Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> As a note--while there is nothing explicit, there are some references to violence/inquisitions committed by and under a theocratic government.

There is a Temple, even here, in the heart of Haven.

(Of course, there are  _many_  temples, because that is what Valdemar  _is;_  but most of them are devoted to gods that Kallus doesn’t know and doesn’t care to.)

They dress it up in euphemisms—calling Him the Lord of Light. Not incorrect, technically, but not quite… _right,_  either. Protection, though, for this community in exile.

He can’t really fault them for it.

Kallus finds it less than a week after he and Zeb arrive in the city, drawn in by something he can’t quite name. But he doesn’t go to any services–doesn’t approach the place at all, in fact. Not for nearly a month.

When he finally does, it’s close to midnight, in early fall with the faintest edge of frost to the air. The priest, whoever he is, has long since gone to sleep and, apart from the ever-burning flame at the altar, the Temple is dim and quiet. Deserted.

And yet…and yet, it’s a  _comforting_ place, somewhat to Kallus’ surprise. The kind of place he thinks he might have seen once or twice, as a child, or perhaps during his very early training. Before his aptitude for combat and for uncovering secrets had led to his posting on the Border. Bewildering and out of context, to be sure, but warm and welcoming all the same. What he always thought—perhaps what a holy place  _should_  be.

Even so, here, in the Temple, the weight of all he has done—for his homeland and his God, and, more recently,  _against_  them—bears down on him, and for a moment he isn’t sure he can hold it up anymore. Not like this. Not alone.

Kallus stands in the courtyard for a long moment, staring at the entrance to the sanctuary; all at once so familiar and so  _strange._ None of it—none of it feels angry, or accusatory, or even  _disappointed_  in him. Not really. Just…waiting for him to speak.

“I wish…” he starts, then stops. “I wish I knew what You wanted from us. From me.”

There is no answer. Not that he particularly expects one.

“I wish I knew,” he continues, “I wish I could—believe, that it was  _this,_ and not what we have become.”

But somehow, over the past few centuries, the senior priesthood, up to and _especially_ the Sons of the Sun themselves, have grown more and more corrupt, and  _cruel._  They have brought out the very worst in too many of the people in their charge—Kallus and other lesser priests, his erstwhile brethren, among them—and yet the Lord of Light has remained silent. Through all of it. Giving, if nothing else, His tacit approval to what was done within the borders of His land.

And He remains likewise silent now.

Kallus sighs. “I will always be Your servant,” he says. “Some oaths cannot be unmade. But…”

He closes his eyes and  _remembers_  the Border and his long, bitter service there, in the shadows cast by his superiors; by the black-robed priests. He remembers chasing whispers in the dark, listening to the demons howl, and praying that the one commanding them retained the God’s favor and control over what had been unleashed for at least one more night.

And he remembers  _believing_  in it all.  _Believing_  in the endless war, the fear and the Fires, the demons at his back. Believing it was  _right,_ for Karse and for the whole of Velgarth. Believing in his country.

And in his God.

He does his best to let it out; releasing as much of that guilt and that memory of fear as he can in a single, shaky breath, like ashes drifting away on the wind.

Still, it lingers, clinging to his soul like the smell of smoke.

But then he remembers—other things. A cave in the mountains; a warm, crooked grin; a Valdemaran Guard Captain’s collar, half-undone and rumpled in a way Kallus’ superiors would  _never_  have tolerated.

A hand, reaching out for his. Offering him a chance to see things differently. To be a better man.

Offering him a  _choice._

He opens his eyes. “Until I know,” he says, “until I  _know,_  I can’t…” He hesitates. “I prayed. During those long months, after the rockslide, after I went back, before I…before I realized who and where I was, and what I knew I had to be. I prayed. I wish…I wish that You had answered me.”

The flame flickers on in silence.

He sighs again, and shakes his head.

“I may still burn in righteous Fire for the things I’ve done,” he says, quietly. “But I would like to believe it’s for my crimes in service of evil men who claim to speak for You, and not for leaving them behind.”

The ghost of a warm, heavy hand rests on his shoulder, providing comfort and assurance that the Lord of Light—well. That’s the question that brought him here, isn’t it? To see if he would be Cleansed or comforted or something in between.

Really, though, as he watches the fire and waits for a Sign, all he can think about is Zeb, waiting for him in their apartment halfway across the city.  _Hopefully_  still asleep, but just as likely waking up to find himself alone, and by now half-convinced that Kallus has gotten himself into trouble and already plotting something reckless and destructive to pull him out of it.

The thought warms him, deep at the core of his soul. And he realizes that, wherever he might stand with the Sunlord, tonight and in other nights to come—he  _isn’t_  alone in this. He and Zeb may each have their own burdens to bear, their own battles to fight—but that doesn’t mean they can’t  _help_  one another find their way through. The way Zeb already has, in so many ways. The way Kallus only hopes he can help him in return.

And perhaps  _that’s_  his answer after all. That, and—for all his doubts about himself and his faith and the world he lives in, he hasn’t once  _regretted_  his choice. Not since he made it. Not even  _here,_  in this silent Temple in the heart of Haven, with its sacred flame so far away from home.

It wasn’t  _precisely_  a sign, no, but it was something. A place to start. Even if, tonight, he will walk away from the Sunlord and His Temple not yet reconciled.

He smiles, a little half-smile that is something bitter and sad and triumphant all at once; and bows to the altar, hand on his heart as it was when he first pledged his service to Karse and to Vkandis Sunlord.

But as he turns to leave, the flame on the alter catches a pocket of air in one of the logs with an audible snap and a cascade of sparks. He pauses for a moment, unsure what it might mean—a blessing, a warning…

 _A reminder,_  he decides.  _That, when I’m ready to come back…for better or for worse, however far Karse has or has not strayed, the Sunlord will be there._

Someday, perhaps, he might yet accept the offer. But for now, as he drifts through the darkened streets of the city that is already beginning to feel like home, he feels lighter than when he came. He feels that he can set those concerns aside and focus on far more earthly things for a while.

When he gets back to the apartment the two of them share, he finds Zeb still snoring blissfully away. He watches him for a moment, with a fond smile.

Kallus knows that he may never quite resolve all of his complex feelings towards his past and his faith. But this—this place, this  _person,_  here in what not so long ago was enemy territory…it may not be simple, or easy, but it needs no further reconciliation.

These are things he  _knows_  he needn’t doubt.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo I know I should really be working on _Precipice,_ (and that update is coming I swear, probably tomorrow or the next day). But, well, this happened, lol. Uh, first time I've ever actually written anything with anyone from _Rebels,_ so hopefully this wasn't too far off-voice. Originally posted to [my writing tumblr](http://shadowsong26fic.tumblr.com) a couple days ago, I cleaned up a few bits and clarified some things about Kallus' background in this AU. While this is the only actual text I've written in this crossover, I've posted some headcanons for it on my tumblr. Feel free to message me there if you want to chat more about it!
> 
> <3 Thank you all for stopping by! <3 ~ shadowsong


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